


30 Day OTP Challenge

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanstuck AU in which humans have quadrants.</p><p>(pale gamkar drabbles for tumblr user ericandy's 30 day otp challenge)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which karkat and gamzee hold hands

**Author's Note:**

> whelp so this is my first time posting a fic so
> 
> I wrote this first chapter pretty late at night since I wasn't sure whether I wanted to do the challenge this month, but let's just pretend that it was written on November 1st. Sorry in advance for the quick writing/lack of editing/lame title, I just wanted to get this up in time. Tags will be updated as I go.
> 
> Also this takes place in some humanstuck AU where there're still quadrants and all the terminology that comes with them, yep.

The park was still and quiet when the two arrived. It was early – not too early that they didn’t see a few morning joggers, but early enough that the world was only just beginning to stir – and the crisp chill in the air kept most people inside. Walks in the park were usually a springtime activity, not for late autumn.

Karkat had dragged the two of them out of bed and down the couple of blocks after Gamzee had jolted awake, eyes unfocused and crazed, screaming and gasping for breath. The nightmares had been worse than usual this week. Every morning that he woke to Gamzee’s terror made him feel more and more powerless. All he could do was gather his lanky friend into his arms, hushing him and stroking his hair, his arms, his face, until his breathing became even and his sweat dried. This morning, moved by some combination of pity and frustration at his own sense of helplessness, Karkat had bundled both Gamzee and himself in warm clothes and pushed them out the door. The taller boy followed him compliantly. He’d nuzzled into Karkat’s side as they took the elevator down, in desperate need for comfort and physical contact. Karkat kissed him lightly. Gamzee yawned in his face, grinning drowsily, lovingly.

When they arrived at the park, they found themselves wandering the pathways with nothing for company but the morning sunlight and each other. Birds chirped in the trees that lined the paths, and in the distance they could hear a few passing cars. Gamzee hummed contentedly from time to time. Neither of them spoke, but within the first five minutes of getting there, Karkat had quietly looped his arm through his friend’s and guided him gently through the empty park. They nestled closer for warmth. Karkat huffed and buried his face in his scarf, and Gamzee, seeing the water in the air condense as his heavy exhale warmed it, decided to blow light little streams of steam into the morning air as well, noting with a dreamy voice how miraculous it was.

Eventually they sat down on a frosty bench, unhooking their arms so that they could instead hold hands. Gamzee rested his head on Karkat’s shoulder as the shorter boy stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. They both closed their eyes. The present encircled them in arms of stillness, the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong and the weak light all pressing against their skin, making them acutely aware of being inside of a moment. Time felt irrelevant, suspended, as if the two of them were somehow separated apart from the rest of the world. Karkat’s usual frustration was replaced with a sense of bittersweet affection; Gamzee was at peace by his friend’s side.

It was Gamzee who broke the silence, shifting against Karkat’s shoulder. “I love you so motherfucking much,” he said, voice muffled against his scarf. “I feel as pale as the morning sun.” And he lifted his friend’s hand, clasped in his, and brushed his lips against his knuckles; and something caught in Karkat’s throat, and he couldn’t speak. There was no need for a response. They both knew what the other wanted to say, what each of them meant. The morning sun illuminated something within them both. It was the early hour of the day when fewer words carried more meaning and actions conveyed something which language could not articulate - it was that kind of knowing, transcendent and pure.

Tit was only when a jogger ran past that they finally stood. Gamzee wiped the damp, melted frost off of the seat of Karkat’s pants, who scolded him for it and batted his hand away, and then the two clasped hands again and carried on along the path. They exited the park wordlessly and walked another couple blocks to a small café where Karkat ordered a coffee and Gamzee got some sort of monstrous hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and cinnamon, and then he scooped up some of the cream and plopped it on Karkat’s nose, and the other boy scowled halfheartedly before wiping it off.

And things were okay. The nightmares wouldn’t be gone, Karkat knew, and as he looked across the table at his best friend he tried not to let the thought cause his chest to ache. But it did, and he could only stare into his cup and Gamzee slurped away. Karkat was content, in a soft, quiet way, though; he was glad. Gamzee was happy for the moment. The present was enough. It had to be enough. After all, he thought, all sense of time warped strangely after the events of the morning – the present moment was all they really had.


	2. in which karkat and gamzee cuddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there isn't as much cuddling in this chapter as I would have liked considering the prompt was "cuddling," but that's okay because I'd be surprised if the majority of these don't have some sort of cuddles anyway.

“Get up,” Karkat called from the bathroom, his voice muffled by the toothbrush and amount of foam dribbling down his chin. He spat into the sink and wiped his face. “Seriously,” he shouted again, peering out of the door into their bedroom, where Gamzee had buried himself under the covers. “You better be up by the time I get out of the shower. I will drag your ass out of bed if need be, so help me God.”

The only response he received was a sleepy moan of protest, which he ignored. Karkat shucked off his clothing and turned on the shower, letting the water warm up before stepping in and closing his eyes. He let out a little sigh. Although Gamzee was still tired from the lack of sleep he’d gotten over the past week, the nightmares had at least stopped, and getting some social interaction would be good for him. Jade had called them up to invite them and a handful of other friends to the opening of her new art exhibit, with lunch at her place afterwards. Karkat, thinking it would be best for them to get out of the house and spend time with friends, had accepted, and Gamzee had seemed excited for it. That is, until he was forced to wake up early to get there.

Turning off the water, Karkat dried himself with a fresh towel, rubbing it against his hair to help it dry faster. He looked in the mirror and frowned. Picking up his brush, he proceeded to attempt to tame his somewhat unruly mess of hair. It only took a few moments to comb it out. Once he was satisfied, Karkat wrapped the towel around his hips and went into the bedroom.

It was clear from the state of the bed that Gamzee had not yet begun to get ready. The sheets had been pulled up and draped over the headboard, forming a sort of tent-like area on the bed. “Gamzee, what the-“ Karkat began hotly, before pausing to take a moment to compose himself. He exhaled heavily and dragged a hand over his face. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

The young man went to the dresser, where he set down his brush and took out a pair of boxers. He tossed his damp towel on the floor before pulling the underwear on. Picking back up the brush, he made his way to the bed-turned-tent and pushed the pillow blocking the entrance to the side. He peered in. Gamzee was buried in a nest of pillows and blankets, looking extremely pleased with himself. “Welcome, best bro,” he said with a smile. “Climb on in and enjoy the motherfucking cave of cuddles.”

Karkat hit his own forehead lightly with the brush and groaned. “You seriously named it the cave of cuddles. You – Gamzee, I can’t even begin to articulate how terrible of a name that is. You’ve singlehandedly destroyed all hope for physical affection. That’s it. It’s over before it started. That name just killed any cuddle boner that I may have had.”

“So you do want to up and get your cuddle on?”

“I swear you have selective hearing,” Karkat grumbled as he climbed into the tent. The other boy’s long arms immediately reached out to cling to him. “Fuck off, I’m just here to brush your hair.” Karkat pried Gamzee off of him, maneuvering around his friend’s bare limbs. Gamzee was shirtless, dressed in a pair aof his usual pajama bottoms, his hair a disaster. If Karkat’s hair was unruly, Gamzee’s was a rebel in the middle of a full-scale riot.

Karkat pulled his comb through the tangled locks angrily. “Jesus fucking Christ, why didn’t I force you into the shower,” he muttered, frustrated at both Gamzee and himself for the unnecessary obstacles that his moirail had created this morning. “I feel like I’m going to tear out a clump of hair.”

“It’s fine, bro, I can handle the motherfucking pain,” Gamzee said passively.

“I’m not worried about that,” Karkat scowled, tugging on the brush. “I don’t know how I’m going to make you look presentable for Jade’s exhibit. Do you even have clean clothes to wear?”

The other boy just shrugged.

Eventually, Karkat had managed to beat the stubborn nest of hair into a submissive state and grudgingly called it “somewhat presentable.” Gamzee thanked him by turning around and trapping him in his arms, pinning him down to the pile of pillows. “We don’t have time for this,” Karkat protested half-heartedly, but when Gamzee nuzzled closer and kissed his collarbone, he found himself returning the embrace. He placed his hands hesitantly on Gamzee’s bare back. “Shit, stop, we’re going to be late.”

“We’re always motherfucking late. They won’t mind.” His jaw brushed against Karkat’s neck; his voice was thick with affection.

Karkat felt himself begin to cave. “Alright,” he agreed, though his tone slightly unsure. He buried his face in Gamzee’s thick hair as if to convince himself. “Just for a few minutes. Then you better get your ass into some clothes that don’t look as though you’ve worn them for three weeks straight.”

Gamzee just hummed contentedly, snuggling into Karkat’s side and closing his eyes.


	3. in which karkat and gamzee watch a movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm only like half-filling these prompts at this point oops

After their busy day on Friday, Karkat and Gamzee hadn’t really been in the mood for doing anything over the weekend. The opening of Jade’s art exhibit – which they had, of course, been late for – had led into lunch at her place, which had somehow stretched on so long that by evening they found themselves with a large group of their friends at some club, letting loose, getting drunk, dancing with the music pounding too-loud in their ears. Terezi had started flirting heavily with Karkat after a few drinks, and though he danced with her a while, he’d forced himself to stop when he saw how exhausted Gamzee looked. It probably wouldn’t have led to anything, anyway. He couldn’t start getting his hopes up again.

Karkat was honestly a bit surprised that his feeling of obligation towards Gamzee didn’t irritate him when it got in the way of romantic advances with Terezi. Maybe it was because he’d been after her for so long that he didn’t mind waiting; he was used to being disappointed. Maybe it was because he was grateful that he at least had one quadrant filled and he intended to keep it that way. He’d been worried about his moirail lately. Gamzee’s affectionate nature had intensified as his need for Karkat’s presence grew, but for whatever reason, his friend’s increased need for physical comfort was a bit unnerving to Karkat. It was as if there was something Gamzee was trying to suppress, something dark he was grappling with that made him cling to Karkat for security – arms holding tight to something tangible, familiar, real. There was a shadow lurking in his mind that caused reality to disconnect like a dream. If the nightmares were indicative of anything, some of his old ghosts were coming back to haunt him. It made both of them feel powerless. Karkat didn’t know what to do for him, short of getting him professional help.

So, his concerns for Gamzee taking its usual precedence over the possibility of scoring with Terezi, Karkat had called a cab and taken his friend home.

They’d slept in late the next day, both of them waking up with hangovers. Karkat had treated himself to twelve o’ clock cup of coffee; Gamzee was high by mid-afternoon. The lanky boy sprawled his half-dressed body across the sofa and looked at the ceiling with an unfocused expression on his face, body melting into the pillows, tension easing from his muscles. This was common practice for Gamzee, but for whatever reason, his current drug use was making Karkat anxious. Nowadays it seemed more like a method of escape than a casual habit. It felt as though the burden of his worries were shifting onto Karkat’s shoulders. The shorter boy fidgeted nervously as he sat up on the arm of the sofa, facing Gamzee’s languid form.

Gamzee looked up at him with an easy smile. “What’s up, best friend?”

“Any chance that you won’t be stoned tonight so we can actually go out and do something normal?” Karkat frowned at him. “I don’t know, like, eat dinner or try and find the shittiest movie that’s currently in theaters and then go watch it.”

“Don’t motherfucking know, bro.”

“Whatever, all those drugs have permanently affected your mind, anyway. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you completely sober.”

“Maybe… maybe not. It’s a motherfucking mystery I guess.” Gamzee wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I’m the sober one and you’re motherfucking tripping on some wicked shit.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.”

The two sat silently for a moment, one letting go of thought, the other thinking enough for the both of them. Finally Gamzee spoke up again. “Yo, we could always watch a movie right here. Butter up some motherfucking popcorn and pop in a DVD.”

“Or find something on Netflix,” Karkat added thoughtfully, receiving a murmur of agreement from Gamzee.

So when evening came around they had made themselves a bowl of popcorn, donned pajamas, and carried a heap of blankets from the bedroom to the living room, which they then piled up on the sofa. Karkat hadn’t yet gotten Netflix set up with their television, so instead they used this laptop to watch online. They scrolled through the romantic comedy section until Karkat found a movie he thought looked decent – though, as Gamzee pointed out, he could find any rom com to be decent –and finally they started to watch.

They were about a third of the way into the movie when Karkat noticed that Gamzee wasn’t laughing at the lines he normally would have, and, peering sidelong at his friend’s face, noted that he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the movie at all. There was something distant in his face. Karkat nestled into his side, and Gamzee stroked Karkat’s messy hair down to the back of his neck absentmindedly. “What’s wrong,” Karkat muttered into the other boy’s shirt.

“Hm?” Gamzee continued to stroke Karkat’s neck with his knuckles.

“Something’s up. You’ve been moping around all day, and you’ve been clingy as hell lately.”

There was a long pause. Gamzee shifted, almost uncertainly, against Karkat. “I don’t motherfucking know, man. I mean, it’s just that watching this movie here, these characters are up and going through a lot of motherfucking shit to be together, and when they finally manage it, it’s all sorts of miraculous. And it’s supposed to make you happy to watch, you know? But like, is their love stronger because they worked for it? Or what? Because lately I’m just feeling all sorts of gratitude for being with you, and I love you so motherfucking much and it’s so motherfucking easy, but like, what if that means it’s weaker? And I’m afraid of losing this, I guess.”

Karkat scowled against Gamzee’s side. “Don’t be a dumbass. That is literally one of the least intelligent conclusions you have ever come to, congratulations. Do you realize just how much of your shit I put up with? You think we don’t work at this? Actually, fuck that, it doesn’t matter whether we’ve worked at it or not. That’s a terrible way to measure a relationship. Trust me - I may get most of my romantic knowledge from movies, but saying I only love you because I’ve had to work at it? I mean, if you’re suggesting that, I-“ He paused, blushing with embarrassment and silently berating himself for it. “Gamzee, I’m going to be honest with you for a moment, so you better fucking clean out the nonsense that’s clogging up your ears and listen to me. If you’re suggesting that… our love or whatever is something that will just fall apart because we’re not working at it, well – I just – that’s the most ridiculous thing you have ever said, and what drugs are you on that even allowed to even consider that possibility?”

Gamzee was silent, and Karkat mentally kicked himself for going off on his tirade. He didn’t mean to make Gamzee’s concerns invalid or deny the importance of them, because obviously this was something that had been eating away at him. One important lesson he’d learned from his intensive study of rom coms was that a healthy relationship involved talking about feelings – especially in a healthy moirallegiance - and most often the things that kept couples from finally getting together in movies were caused by some sort of miscommunication. He tried again. “It’s just, I know I might get frustrated at you a lot, but that’s just who I am. I can’t help that I’m a shitty excuse for a human being who doesn’t appreciate his friends as much as he should. And you mean more to me than anything and I can’t even imagine the possibility of having a different moirail, I’d just… I don’t know, Gamzee. I’d be lost without you, can’t you see that?”

He leaned closer in to Gamzee’s chest and felt the familiar welcome of those long arms around him. Gamzee stroked his back, as if he were the one offering up comfort rather than Karkat, and pressed his cheek against his friend’s hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… seeing you all up and after Terezi, and I keep getting in the motherfucking way, and it just feels like you’re in some rom com and I’m one more motherfucking obstacle between you and her filling up a quadrant. And I mean, is a moirail really as important as a motherfucking matesprit? It’s like I’m keeping you from all sorts of miracles and you’re trying so hard and, well, it just brings a motherfucker down.”

“Oh.” Karkat wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt like shit. Gamzee was concerned about Karkat’s advances on Terezi, not because he was jealous, but because he felt guilty for getting in the way of them. It was so selfless that he wanted to vomit just thinking about how much he didn’t deserve a moirail like Gamzee. And he’d gone off at him for even being worried about them breaking apart. Smooth, Karkat. “Gamzee, no matter how pathetically head-over-heals I may be for Terezi, you’ll always come first. Because I put you there, not because of some stupid moirail responsibilities bullshit. Okay?”

Gamzee hummed what might have been an agreement against his hair, and Karkat decided not to push it.

“Now can we get back to watching this movie?”


	4. in which karkat and gamzee go on a date

“Hey, shitstain, get your coat on. We’re going out tonight.”

Gamzee looked up over the back of the sofa to where Karkat stood, sorting mail on the counter in the kitchen. He had a light frown of concentration on his face, his tongue just barely sticking out in a way that sent a rush of affection flooding into Gamzee’s chest. “What’s the motherfucking occasion?”

Karkat huffed. “A date.”

“Where to?”

‘Just pretend we’re in a pale rom com and I’m about to sweep you off your feet with some completely unrealistic surprise date that’s unique and quirky as hell, I don’t fucking know. You and I are getting our lazy asses out of this apartment before I the combined force of our disgusting self-pity causes me to repeatedly bang my head against the wall incessantly until I have finally suffered a slow and torturous death.”

“Shit, bro, hold on one motherfucking second while I get my coat,” Gamzee drawled, turning off the television and walking to the bedroom. He kicked around some of his jackets that had been tossed on the floor, sifting through them with his foot until he changed his mind and went to the coat hanger by the door. The warm winter jacket and scarf that he’d worn a few days before were still hanging up, unwrinkled. Putting them on, the young man padded back to the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Karkat’s waist, his head resting against his shoulder.

Gamzee felt Karkat shift and turn to face him. “Wow, fucktard, put on some actual pants,” the other boy said, noticing that Gamzee was still wearing pajama bottoms. “What did I do in my past life to get a moirail that has the social abilities of newly hatched larva?”

“I must have been pretty motherfucking good in my past life. A motherfucking monk or some shit,” Gamzee mused aloud as he walked back to the bedroom. “Or maybe it’s just a miracle that I managed to end up with you.”

“Please shut up before I shove my fist down your throat so that I don’t have to listen to you embarrass yourself,” Karkat shouted out to him as he rifled through the drawers of the dresser for a clean pair of pants, but Gamzee could tell by his voice that the little guy was actually pretty motherfucking pleased. “I’m already taking you on a date, you can’t get anything more from me.”

“Honk,” Gamzee said playfully, though he knew Karkat probably couldn’t hear him, and smiled.

 

Once the two of them were finally ready, they took the elevator down and headed out. At first Gamzee thought that Karkat was taking him to the park like he had the last morning of Gamzee’s latest nightmare relapse, but instead they continued walking, the artificial lights becoming brighter as the sun sunk below the horizon and left the Earth dim. It felt later than it actually was, due to daylight’s saving, though the clear sky provided a bit of natural light that would otherwise have been nonexistent if it had been overcast. Still, no clouds meant sacrificing a bit of extra warmth for light, so as the two strolled down the sidewalk, they kept their arms close to their bodies and tried to ignore the chill. Karkat’s ash grey sweater was a bit thin, so as they neared the busier part of town, Gamzee took the dark indigo scarf from around his neck and draped it over his friend’s. Karkat gave him a grateful glance.

Gamzee didn’t ask what exactly they were doing walking through the streets, and Karkat didn’t tell him. He was okay with that. This was something they could do for hours – walk through the city, silent, comfortable with each other. They didn’t need to do anything special to enjoy the time they spent together.

Karkat, of course, knew that about them. He’d also taken it into consideration for their plans that afternoon, because instead of seeing a movie for the second night in a row or going on some outrageously elaborate date, they mostly just wandered the city. Karkat bought Gamzee a croissant from a bakery and sat with him in one of the squares as he fed pigeons, entertaining him with a constant stream of sarcastic commentary about the people walking by. As the remaining afternoon light began to fade„ the two of them slipped into stores and messed around with the merchandise. Gamzee acted silly to lift Karkat’s mood; Karkat, playing his part, berated him for being a public embarrassment. They passed by their church and spent a moment standing by the iron-wrought fence of the graveyard, peering in. The streetlights’ electric glow lit up the trees, setting the autumn foliage aflame with rich reds and yellows, bright above the somber headstones.

They looked in on the light and shadow for a few long minutes. “My stomach’s about to start digesting itself due to hunger,” Karkat said at last, and so the two found a nowhere near authentic Indian restaurant and had dinner. Karkat paid for the meal. Gamzee protested, saying that he worked hard for his money and shouldn’t have to spend it on him. “Plus, I should be proving myself to be a motherfucking excellent palemate, since I up and killed this wicked thing we got going for ourselves with all that motherfucking self-pity bringing a motherfucker down. Show you how motherfucking grateful I am for you putting up with my shit.” It was no use, though - Karkat stubbornly insisted that he was the one taking Gamzee on the date, so it was only fair. “I’m buying you ice cream after this, too, and if you complain that it’s too ‘motherfucking cold’ for ice cream, I will pin you down and force feed you it myself,” he added.

“So motherfucking romantic.”

“I try.”

 

Finally they headed home, each holding an ice cream cone – Gamzee with two scoops of some brightly colored, swirly sorbet that Karkat described as “poison green and toxic purple,” and Karkat with plain vanilla. They ate in content silence. When they reached their apartment building, Gamzee leaned down and gave his moirail a messy kiss on the side of the mouth. “Thanks for the date, bro,” he said with a soft smile. Karkat wiped the melted sorbet off of the corner of his lips and gave him a half-hearted scowl, though Gamzee could see him blush in the dim glow of the light above the door. “Whatever,” he muttered.

But when they walked inside, he wrapped his arm around his taller friend and leaned into him affectionately.


	5. in which karkat and gamzee kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not uploading these chapters sooner, I'll get yesterday's and today's up soon as well

Gamzee and Karkat kissed more than most moirails. Not that most didn’t kiss; there had always been a place for that in pale relationships - of a different sort than flushed, of course – but there was more than the typical amount of kissing in their moirallegiance. Their friends did it less. Equius and Nepeta usually provided each other support and comfort through words, though Nepeta did sometimes kiss her moirail fondly on the cheek and giggle when he blushed. As for Eridan and Feferi – back when they were still together – their relationship had been in a sort of later phase that was less physical and more verbal, or even just silent and mutual. They’d never been the sort to be affectionate in any way other than how they talked with each other. And as Eridan had confided to Karkat near the end of that long-lasting but failed relationship, he’d always wanted to kiss or cuddle with Feferi like they did when they were teenagers, but it had become unnatural and awkward for him once his flush-crush for her had begun to develop. He felt like he was faking pale by it, he’d said.

Maybe Gamzee and Karkat’s tendency to use physical affection rather that words wasn’t that unusual. After all, there’d always been a concept of physical versus verbal moirallegiances – there were even tests to “Learn How You and Your Moirail Work Together,” which Karkat dismissed as bullshit. But for them, actions spoke louder than anything they could say. They tripped on words, made enemies of them, resented their limits – Karkat’s ran away from him, made him loud and vulgar and angry, not the comforting moirail he should have been; Gamzee’s floated on something too insubstantial to anchor the other boy down. Calm and security was found in quiet closeness. They conversed in the deep silence. They spoke in sleepy half-lit hours and mornings in the park and evening walks in the city. They stroked cheeks, patted hair, nuzzled necks. They kissed. They just did it as habit, half-consciously, a little comfort they were so used to giving that they barely noticed it.

 

Karkat woke to the blaring his alarm and the weight of Gamzee crushing his left arm. He shut off the alarm and shoved the other boy off, mumbling something about how he was going to find a matesprit that wasn’t so clingy so that he wouldn’t have to put up with this shit for the rest of his life. Gamzee blinked and stared up at him blearily through the slits of his eyes. Possibly guilty, Karkat gave him a kiss on the top of his head before rolling out of bed.

After Karkat got dressed and ate a simple breakfast consisting of toast and coffee, he pulled on his jacket and prepared to leave for work. It’s taken him ages to find a job, with employment rates as they were, but Nepeta of all people had eagerly helped by bagging him a job at the public library next to the animal shelter she volunteered at. Not wanting to decline the offer in favor of working at some fast food place, Karkat had chosen to accept her help, and quickly realized that becoming someone whose job requirements included staying quiet for hours on end might not have been the best career move he could have made.

Gamzee met him at the door, still in pajamas but, surprisingly, out of bed. His long limbs seemed unsure of where to go. They invariably ended up slung around Karkat’s shoulder. “Are you sleepwalking?” the shorter boy growled at him, but he ignored it and pecked him on the cheek instead. Then, continuing to not to hear Karkat’s last reminder not to “touch my shit when I’m gone,” he returned to the bedroom and crawled back under the sheets.

Gamzee welcomed Karkat back with a similar arm-slung-on-shoulder and peck on the cheek that he’d used to say goodbye with that morning. Karkat just brushed him away with a weary grunt. Later, though, when he was sitting on the sofa watching television and Gamzee popped down right beside him, he chose to rest his head wearily against the taller boy. When Karkat finally got up to order food, he left an absentminded kiss on Gamzee’s shoulder. And even later, when they were going to bed, Gamzee flung his arms up around Karkat as he laid against the pillow and sprawled against his side. He kissed him right below the jaw and said, “Thanks, bro.”

“What the fuck for?”

“I don’t right fucking know,” Gamzee said honestly, and then gave him a silly smile. Karkat just let out a put-upon sigh and, as if to bookend their day, pressed his lips to the top of his friend’s head.


	6. in which karkat and gamzee wear each other's clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god I'm going to catch up on this

“Gamzee, if you’re going to lie around smoking pot all day while I spend my days in the seventh ring of Hell being punished with hours upon hours of unbearably peaceful silence that makes me want to scream until my throat bleeds, you can at least do the laundry while I’m gone.”

Karkat was seething, standing next to the messy pile of clothing strewn around their shared dresser. The cause of his frustration, as evidenced by said pile of clothing, was the fact that he had one pair of clean pants left in his drawer and only a couple shirts. He looked over at Gamzee, who was lying back in bed, arms casually resting on the pillows on either side of him, a lazy half-smile creeping up his face. Karkat scowled back. “You’ve been wearing the same god damn pajama bottoms for the past week, and I’m pretty sure you wore your last clean clothes two days ago.”

Gamzee just shrugged. “Alright, man, I’ll up and do the motherfucking laundry,” he said complacently.

Looking unsure as to whether or not he was satisfied with the other boy’s promise, Karkat finally gave a harumph and headed out of the bedroom. “Whatever, I’m going to be late for work if I waste any more of my time here.”

“Take a coat, it’s gonna be motherfucking chilly out there,” Gamzee called.

“How do you know? You haven’t left this shithole in two days,” Karkat shouted back from the other room.

“The wind was sounding all sorts of cold last night.”

“You can’t hear temperature, dumbass. Besides, I don’t have a coat that’s clean,”

“Mine’s by the door, bro. It’s pretty motherfucking clean.”

“Ugh.” There was a rustling noise, a pause, and then a short hum of resignation as Karkat put on the coat. “Not the worst I’ve had to deal with. Do the damn laundry,” he added as means of farewell, and the door opened and shut.

 

When Karkat walked out of the library for his lunch break, Gamzee was sitting on the stone steps. He turned to look up at his friend after he noticed he’d come out. “Haha, you look motherfucking tiny,” he said, looking Karkat up and down. Karkat frowned and flipped him off. It was true, though - Gamzee’s coat was much too large for him, and the length of it made his short figure look even smaller in comparison.

“I could say a thing or two about what you’re wearing,” Karkat replied, but didn’t. His tone seemed more weary than angry; there was no real fire in it. He sat down on the step next to Gamzee. “Why the fuck do you have on my shirt?”

“I was doing the motherfucking laundry, bro. I had no motherfucking clean clothes to wear and all, so I up and grabbed one of yours.”

“Pro tip, skintight is not a good look on you. You’re skinny enough as it is. I thought your baggy shirts looked moronic enough, but shit.” Karkat eyed the thin long-sleeved shirt with a frown. “Aren’t you freezing your ass off in that thing?”

Gamzee shrugged and smiled. “You wanna get some motherfucking lunch or what?” he asked, ignoring the question. “Just set the laundry spinning all up in the washer. I got some motherfucking time.”

“Hypocrite,” Karkat muttered, standing up. He shoved his hands in the deep pockets of Gamzee’s coat and shifted from foot to foot. “Whatever, yeah, I’d like that. Your imbecilic attempts to navigate life in order to appease me are just endearing enough to have won me over. But only as long as you pay.”

Gamzee stood and slung an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a motherfucking deal, bro,” he said warmly, his breath like a cloud of fog in the cold air. They walked down the stairs together, a haphazard pair - one in an oversized coat, the other in a too-tight shirt, shivering in against autumn’s chill.


	7. karkat and gamzee cosplay (kind of)

They sat on the bus in silence, Karkat obviously seething, Gamzee occupied with daydreaming. The pair was dressed in Hogwarts robes and ties, each with a wand in hand. Gamzee wore a ginger wig that clashed with the olive tone of his skin. Karkat had on a pair of glasses, and a lightning bolt had been drawn on his forehead with a red pen.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, hitting the side of his head against the window.

“I think we look pretty motherfucking magical,” Gamzee said, then chuckled at his joke.

Karkat just scowled at the transparent reflection of the lightning bolt scar in the window. “Who the hell even made this an actual event,” he said his tone more flat than an actual question. “The cosplayers are more likely to scare away any casual browser looking for a book than actually check something out. And who the hell planned this to be on a Wednesday? Who’s going to come to a library event on a Wednesday? This whole thing was planned so nauseatingly terribly that I am almost willing to not show up in this crap off and risk being fired. It’s better than vomiting at the sight of obsessive book fanatics who live through fictional characters.”

The Harry Potter outfits that had prompted Karkat’s tirade were for a library event designed to help people see how “reading brings characters to life.” Not wanting to suffer the humiliation of working In a costume surrounded by enthusiastic readers, he’d forced Gamzee to dress up and come with him to work for the day.

When their bus finally reached their stop, the two got out and followed what appeared to be the fellowship of the ring into the library. A small group of people were already there, which seemed to surprise Karkat. “The cosplayers are out,” he said under his breath as they looked around.

Karkat was about to go and begin work when he heard an excited voice rise up above the quiet murmurs in the library. “Karkat! Gamzee!” The pair turned to see a ginger-haired girl grinning enthusiastically at them, with a tall, muscular young man following behind her. Karkat let out a long-suffering sigh. “Hey, Nepeta. Equius.”

“You guys look so good! “ Nepeta said, hopping up in a barely-controlled display of excitement. “It’s so cute that Gamzee dressed up with you. I thought it’d only be you here, Karkat.”

“And I thought you weren’t going to be here at all,” Karkat responded, less than enthusiastic. “How’d you find out about this, anyway?”

“My older sister is on some board for the library, didn’t you know? That’s how I helped get you your job!” She shifted from foot to foot as she spoke. “I helped her come up with the idea for this event. I’m Katniss, could you tell? Equius let me borrow one of his bows and some arrows so it’s super realistic.”

“Yeah, Nepeta, you make a fantastic Catpiss.”

She squinted playfully at him. “It looks like Katniss has found another tribute threatening her life, There’s only one thing she can do to save herself,” she said, pulling back the string of her bow while pointing the arrowless weapon at Karkat. She let go. “Pchoo. Harry falls down, dead. Even his magic couldn’t protect him from Katniss’s bow!”

“Thank you for that heartbreaking rendition of Harry Potter’s canonical death. Now, I need to go make a living, if you don’t mind.”

“Who the motherfuck are you?” Gamzee spoke up, nodding his head at Equius. The other boy was wearing Nepeta’s cherished blue cat beanie, and had a nose and whiskers drawn with blue paint onto his face. He looked slightly uncomfortable being in costume.

“He’s Bluestar, from the Warriors series!” Nepeta explained with a radiant smile. “Get it?”

Karkat had barely enough time to articulate his opinion of the costume with a hushed, horrified, “Oh my god,” when the group heard a familiar voice shouting out to them. Four heads turned to see Terezi strutting towards them, wearing a bushy, brown-haired wig and black robes like Karkat and Gamzees’. “I knew you guys would be here,” she said with a toothy grin. “I could hear you talking from across the room.”

“You came!” Nepeta exclaimed, and then proceeded to tell the other girl what everyone was wearing. “Gamzee and you are Ron and Hermione,” she noted, a tremor of gleeful suspicion in her voice. “Did you plan it?”

“No way,” Terezi said dismissively, and Gamzee growled “no” in a voice so uncharacteristic of him that Nepeta blinked at him, visibly startled. Karkat gave his moirail a sidelong glance. After Nepeta recovered from the shock, her expression began to change, a slow, mysterious smile creeping across her face. Karkat looked between the three of them with a concerned glance.

“Fuck,” he muttered, then grabbed Gamzee’s arm, feeling the other boy bristle with tension. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat with you asshats, I have to work. Gamzee, stay with me so that the extent of my social humiliation doesn’t suddenly dawn on me and prompt me to rip my entire costume off in public.”

He lead the gangly boy away in a rush. Gamzee stayed by his side throughout the rest of the day, remaining even after the character dress-up event ended and trying to help Karkat by leaning over his shoulder and watching in fascination as he scanned the bar codes of books. Eventually, Karkat was forced to shoo him away, and he ended up wandering the library instead.

He was so absorbed in a book when Karkat found him at the end of the day that the other boy had trouble prying him away.


End file.
